


Disney quote challenge 7

by AzureAngel2



Series: Disney challenge [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 21:06:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13419654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureAngel2/pseuds/AzureAngel2
Summary: The line between good and evil is always thin. A young officer cadet of the Galactic Empire has to change his views on life.





	Disney quote challenge 7

**6\. Alexandre Kallus (Lothal, 19 BBY)**

When her high-pitched cries sound through the corridor, regret kicks in immediately. You just wanted to teach Mistress Samye a lesson about obedience to the Empire and to Commander Krennic, as her legal guardian, but your superior went too far. Blood runs out of her nostrils and her mouth. She looks like somebody who is either infected by a deadly virus or got beaten up.

While you approach the middle-aged kindergarten teacher, you say, “Milady, I never wanted that to happen.” You are so sorry for her. She deserves much, much better than this. “I was told a courtier was going to meet us, not a grim warrior in armour.”

When you had stepped into your office, the masked giant had waited behind your desk. He had introduced himself to you as Lord Vader, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces. You had no reason to doubt him. Of late the old Palpatine has grown a bit eccentric. You believe it has to do with the vile attack on his life by traitorous Jedi knights.

Mistress Samye seemed to know Lord Vader and had shown no fear or distress at his sight. Just sadness. She had taken the box with the forbidden Jedi items from you and had placed it right before him.

Then they had started staring at one another, a silent duel of wills. Until you had not been able to take it any longer.

It was a mistake. You should never have left.

Mistress Samye reminds you of a fleeing eopie, while she storms towards you.

Finally, you stand right before her. When you attempt to touch her, the brown eyes widen.

Blind panic is in them. But her voice is extremely controlled. “Get me home now and on the way contact Doctor Robotham on Coruscant!”

Trembling, she starts walking towards the exit, not paying attention to the curious faces that peek out from the other offices.

You fall in line with Mistress Samye, courting a respectable distance between the two of you. In war time, you have seen trauma victims like her. Brave, but shaken to the core of their being. They gave their best to function before they collapsed.

“Do you need a glass of water?” you suggest, scanning her profile for more visible injuries.

“Not even Corellian whisky can help me now!” she answers somewhat grim. “I want my therapist.”

Her plea guts you. It seems to draw a lot of strength from her to voice her need. In future you will do much better dealing with her trust. Commander Krennic asked you for help, not for making things much more worse.

“Would it help if we sit down for a while?”

She comes to a halt. Her fists press against her brow, hiding her distorted face. “Take me out of this town! And get me Robotham on the line!”

You hurry to the space port with her, seeing her strength leaking out of her.

Once she sinks down in the co-pilot seat, she is a mere shadow of her former self.

“Did Lord Vader torture you?” you inquire, your voice soft and careful.

But the harm is done. She gapes at you like you have grown two heads. “I want no more questions!” she shrieks. “Neither from you or from Orson.”

You cannot promise her the latter. The commander will be beside himself. Now that you know that you are dealing with Post-traumatic stress disorder here, you can understand his possessiveness about her, his exaggerated concern.

The words leave your stupid mouth before you can stop them. “Your uncle hurt you a long time ago.”

Her onslaught surprises you and you simply let her fists rain down on you. They do you no great harm. She seems to need it. “Sheev. Saved. Me.”

It is obvious that you have blamed the wrong person for the crime. This is inexcusable, but you are on the right path. It just has been another Palpatine.

A sight leaves your mouth.

There are things about the Imperial family nobody should know.

After a while her attack loses its fierceness and she starts wailing in tones that you never have heard out of her mouth. You would like to console her, but you are actually too afraid to touch her after all you did.

There is a movement outside. A lone figure has approached the platform carrying an all too familiar box.

With your mouth wide open, you leave the ship. “L-l-l-ord Vader!” you stutter.

“Is she well?” the masked man asks.

“Mistress Samye is... she… PTSD,” you babble.

“I see.” You are not sure if he is talking to you or to himself. “It is too late for excuses.”

Whatever this person is, he seems to be a gentleman with principles and morals.

“Give her the box! It belongs to her.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “But, sir...!”

His eerie helmet lowers a bit towards you. “I have decided. Do not concern yourself with my choices! As for the offence report: you did the right thing. It is noted.”

With that, Lord Vader abruptly turns around and walks away, his cape blowing in the wind.

Only now you notice that the box has a self-made ribbon around it. It is in the Imperial colour: Tyrian purple. He really tore an official flag into pieces for doing so. With that he dares a lot, but this new Supreme Commander of the Imperial Forces seems to know little about limits and rules.

A note falls on the ground.

Awkwardly, you fish for it. The envelope says in badly written Aurebesh: 'To Milady'.

You put it between your teeth and start walking back to the ship. Even before you enter the cockpit, you hear Mistress Samye discussing something wildly. “He is not to blame. I let him inside my head.”

She cannot possibly talk about you.

Noiselessly, you put the box down.

“Why should I be proud of myself? I am nothing but exhausted. It was like running against a thick wall.”

Unsure if you should really listen into an emergency session between a therapist and his patient, you keep standing where you are.

“I saw no other option, Sebastian. Stop being so gleeful!”

You decide to boot the ramp.

The sound stops her, but not for long. “No, I am not with Orson, but with a cadet officer that babysits me on his behalf.”

This is not what you would call it. These would not be your words.

“I am not sure if Kallus really wants to talk to you. He only takes orders from Orson.”

As if Krennic was your direct officer-of-the-day. The two of you have a pact concerning the safety of the Emperor’s secret niece. And you broke it today. You can forget about your promotion.

“Extending his trust issues on other people? Well, tell that to Orson. He will bite your nose off for such… To tell you the truth, I am an official hostage of the Empire.”

She is over-dramatising her situation.

“Sheev should not be bothered about it. Family council will not do. He told you before. For his taste, you already know too much about us. If he kills you...”

She breaks out in violent tears again and you stumble into the cockpit.

“Palpatines like... to keep... their dirty... secrets.” She is rocking back and forth. Her breath comes in fits. “This is... why I am... alive still. **Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten.** ”

Alarmed, you kneel down in front of her.

“D-death wish? C-onstantly, b-but he… he will have… have me... brought back. I.. I am sure of it.”

She sinks back into the seat, breathing hard like somebody who gets strangled.

You take her comm and the attached earpiece away from her. There is no protest. She just sits there with her eyes closed and gives into her tears.

“Nagina? Talk to me!” begs a male voice as you plug in the ear piece into one of your own ears.

“She is not able to answer you any more, doctor,” you say. “I am Alexandre Kallus.”

Her therapist growls. Then he says, “You are the one responsible for this crisis.”

“I am afraid that I am, sir!” you give straight back, because there is no point in lying.

“You will get to the next pharmacy and get me the following drugs.”

He names them. Older comrades of yours use those. Those who fought at the front lines of the Clone Wars. At places that were too dirty for the Jedi commanders.

“They contain paroxetine and sertraline. I see no other way at present, because I am not sure if,” he makes a meaningful pause, “The Emperor wants me to go on where I stopped by treatment some weeks ago.”

You are not so sure either.

“But later on I would like to talk to Krennic if possible. For now, do not ask any dumb questions and leave her be! And by all means, do not touch her, unless she explicitly asks for it.”

“I wish I was with her on Lothal right now!” You hear from the strain in his voice that he does his best to stay professional. “Just do me the favour, act like a true officer now, get the medication and bring her home in one piece!”

There was no need to ask you, but you begin to understand the other man's growing dismay even if he is half way across the galaxy.

Mistress Samye has stopped crying, but stares ahead of her.

Your built-in comm begins to rustle. “Command centre to Officer Cadet Kallus. Lord Vader gave you clearance to take-off a while ago and would like to inquire what takes you so long. Over.”

You clear your throat. “This is Kallus. We had a situation here on board. But now everything is under control now. Over.”

“Command centre. Lord Vader inquires if you need him to come back and assist you in getting away. Over.”

You blush. “Kallus. Ready for take-off. Over,” you quickly answer before this escalates.

“Command centre. Hopefully. Over.”

In a trance, you push the buttons for starting procedure.

“Alexandre?” asks a meek voice next to you.

Blinking, you look into the tear stained face of Mistress Samye. She used your given name, but it is alright with you. “Yes, please?”

Tentatively, one of her hands reaches out for you and you take it. Her dorsum feels wet.

“Lord Vader did… not hurt me,” she slurs. “I... I hurt him before he could. Offence is the best defence.”

Your engines are on and therefore you cannot wonder about her testimony for too long.

“Command centre,” blares your comm connection. “A medical parcel is on its way to Jhotal. There is no need for a detour. Mind your own parcel now! Regards from Lord Vader. Over.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sources:  
> Wookieepedia – The Star Wars Wiki  
> Jedipedia, a free German Star Wars-Encyclopaedia


End file.
